


I Know Places

by dutchmoxie



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:32:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dutchmoxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy and Clarke have to escape Mount Weather. Together. Of course, that is only the beginning...</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know Places

She would tell herself that she wasn’t extremely grateful for his stupid presence, but that would be lying. Bellamy is just about the only thing keeping her sane at this point. Everyone else appears to be buying the bullshit Dante keeps spouting at them, while her every sense is screaming at her that she is being told lies. Something is wrong here. There is something that these Mountain Men are not telling them and it is not anything good.

Jasper thinks she’s overly paranoid after everything they have been through with the Grounders – but at least Bellamy doesn’t. He doesn’t look at her like she is one breakdown away from losing it completely. His dark gaze is always upon her lately, but it strengthens and reassures her rather than creeping her out like it used to. For some reason, he has always looked at her a lot.

She still hasn’t figured out why he does that.

Sometimes she returns the favor, when the lights are perfect for actual drawing (and not just drawing up escape plans from this underground prison). There are moments when the artificial light strikes his face just so that she has no choice but to sketch him in that particular moment. She misses the sunlight, and the way it used to give everyone (but especially him) a warm glow.

Her sketches are hidden – no one can know just how often his face shows up. Sure, she has drawn most of her friends over the course of her stay here, but for some reason Bellamy seems to have the lead role in her drawings. It’s embarrassing and tells way too much about her faith and trust in him – and the way she really does care about him.

It is tempting to give in to those feelings now that they are trapped together for the foreseeable future. Here they do not have to lead, do not have the pressure of almost fifty (only fifty) lives on their shoulders. Here they can just be – as long as they never try to open the door.

But it is not in her nature, or in Bellamy’s, to hide behind locked doors and hope that the problems they are facing would go away. She still wants to find Finn and Miller, still holds hope for Raven’s health and her mother’s life. She still believes in the world out there, no matter how lethally dangerous it may be.

And that is why it’s time to start acting, instead of just hiding away in corners and making plans - that only gets them some stupid comments from Jasper about it being ‘about time that Mom and Dad started hooking up’. It is time to act - and medical seems like the perfect place to start.

There has to be some reason that a man close to death has healed up almost completely in a matter of days. And that reason will probably be found in the medical area that is being kept under close guard. Why else would they keep it locked up tight?

She contemplates ripping out the stitchings in her arm to get into the medical area. She stares at the sharp edge on her bed and she can almost feel the metallic taste of blood on her tongue. It would be so easy.

“Absolutely not,” Bellamy sees through her the second he arrives.

“It is a sure-fire way to get me into medical,” she keeps looking between him and that sharp edge. “We need answers, Bellamy.”

Something is happening in that area, behind the locks and the masks. Bellamy knows it just as much as she does - and he has to be just as eager to get answers. He has a worse case of what they used to call cabin fever. He is no longer used to being caged in, being forced to stay inside. He knows the feeling of the wind in his hair and the sun on his face, and it seems almost impossible for him to switch back to a life behind lock and key.

“And we will get them,” he vows solemnly. “But not this way. Not with you risking your health.”

“I can handle it,” she has already decided.

“That’s not what I’m questioning here,” he almost growls. “I’m sure there’s something else we can do that doesn’t leave you open to a nasty infection. If we’re going to escape, we have to be as healthy as possible. We can’t take their fancy medicine with us.”

So he is planning the escape for the two of them? He is not planning to abandon her behind these walls, hidden underground? Sure, she is probably supposed to feel guilty about abandoning Jasper, Monty, and her people. But she cannot feel too guilty about that when she knows that the only way her people will be okay is if she and Bellamy escape this place as soon as possible. They will come up with a plan to save Finn and Miller (Nathan), and then they will find Octavia. She knows how Bellamy worries. No matter how protected Octavia may feel with Lincoln by her side - Bellamy will never stop worrying until he sees his sister safe and sound.

“What?” he smirks at her stunned look. “You didn’t think I’d take the Princess with me on the great escape? I’m not that stupid.”

“And does the King have a plan?” she rolls her eyes at that damn title.

The kids gave him that title when they got used to him calling her Princess all the time. And while the inequality rankles - because she knows that he sees her as an equal - she can see the sense of it all. After all, he is a leader, there for advice on matters of silly inter-100 conflicts as much as more serious matters. They come to her with their aches and pains, but when there’s anger or frustration is involved, Bellamy is the one they talk to.

She doesn’t mind that particular division of labor.

“Yes, he does,” Bellamy grins proudly, blocking her sight of the bed’s sharp edge.

His smug grin is both annoying - she kind of wants to wipe it off with a mean comment about one thing or another - and kind of… not annoying. She’s an idiot.

“Tell me more,” she tries to sound as uninterested as she possibly can.

“We fight,” he talks as if this is the most genius plan in the history of mankind. “It is the only way we both get hurt without causing suspicion.”

This stupid idea might be what causes that fight - how is anyone supposed to believe that they suddenly started fighting when they’ve been suspiciously chummy for their entire stay in this… facility? Will they have to sell this as a lovers’ spat for this to work? Oh, the humiliation of that might actually send her to medical.

“That might be the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard,” she rolls her eyes again. “And I’ve had to hear some of the things Jasper has come up with.”

“If we both get injured at the same time it might look suspicious,” Bellamy actually feels the paranoia that Clarke has been accused of. “We don’t want them to separate us in the medical area. We have to make sure that we are together - and that means that we have to have similar injuries. That is why it should be a fight.”

No, that still sounds stupid. It does not sound like them, and while she is not sure how well these Mountain Men know the two of them - she just cannot risk it. There has to be a better plan than this. There has to be. Maybe she should be asking Jasper - only she can’t trust Jasper with this. Bellamy is the only one she can trust right now.

“Are we having a lovers’ spat?” she explains her frustration rather clumsily. “Even then I doubt that you would ever get violent with me. No, it just doesn’t make sense.”

He would never grab her unless her life was in danger - like when he pulled her from that pit. Bellamy would never hurt her - never try to physically overpower her. Nobody would believe it - he’d sooner punch himself than Clarke.

“What does the great Princess propose instead?” Bellamy is stubborn as ever.

With another deep breath, she tries to think of something, anything that will serve their purpose.

b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c/b/c

Her plan is better, if she says so herself. She climbs up somewhere to get to whatever object she claims to need, and then she gets stuck. And Bellamy is there to catch her. It all ends in a heap of twisted limbs on the cold, hard floor.

And while getting the wind knocked out of her is uncomfortable, she also comes into close contact with Bellamy’s body. Sure, they bump heads and their bones clash in the collision, but his warmth is undeniable. So she is left sprawled on top of him in a parody of intimacy, and she pretends that she isn’t affected.

She focuses on the screaming pain in her left wrist - not part of the plan - instead of on the way he pulled her close to cushion her fall. His hand is on the small of her back and she feels safe - and then she realizes the last time she let someone hold her.

“Watch the hand,” she yells as she disentangles herself. “I think I hurt my wrist.”

It only takes a moment for some worried Mountain person to rush them to the medical wing - no hurting the precious guests, after all. Their immunity is a valuable resource that will probably be of use to these people. At least, that’s how she sees it - and she is sure Bellamy would agree. Shame that the rest of her people only see the Mountain men and women as kind hosts. And that is just naive.

In medical - it’s working, it’s working - she gets a bandage for some of her scrapes and cuts, and a sling around her neck to support her stupid sprained wrist - not part of the plan. Bellamy may have broken - or sprained - a couple ribs, which also wasn’t in the original plan. But at least everyone is buying it.

“I’m sorry about your ribs,” she looks at the bed next to hers.

“I’m sorry about your wrist,” he tries to shrug, and then hisses in pain.

They have to stay overnight - all part of the plan - just because these people are so damn worried after their accident. She demanded to be next to Bellamy for this, seeing as he is the only person she knows and trusts in here.

The look of shock on Bellamy’s face when she screamed that in the Mountain doctor’s face was almost sweet. She is kind of bothered by the fact that he did not know it sooner - he should have known when she forgave him - but she knows history may be clouding his judgment. Hopefully, that is a thing of the past. They have business to complete here.

Night, or whatever passes for that underground, comes almost too quickly. The doctor leaves as Clarke and Bellamy both pretend to have fallen asleep after the tiring events from earlier that day. It is almost too easy.

“Try to be quiet,” Bellamy warns, like she’s one of the kids. “And put something on your feet. You don’t want to know what’s been here.”

Him and his stupid historic accounts of emperors and nasty illnesses that used to destroy people on earth. But yes, he has a point about the floor of an underground bunker possibly not being the safest place to walk barefoot. She would sooner feel mud dirtying her soles.

“Yes sir,” she salutes him mockingly with her right arm.

“Don’t sir me, Princess,” Bellamy pulls on his discarded boots.

It is kind of typical that they would waste time arguing when there are so many important things to be done. There are actual wounded people, from the Mount Weather group, being treated for whatever ails them. And there is the man they saw earlier, with the radiation burns that somehow disappeared in a manner of days.

He is covered by a blanket, but he is healing quickly. Too quickly.

“Look at the blood,” she finally sees it.

“It looks like an old Earth hospital,” Bellamy clearly doesn’t.

“The tubes,” she whispers, trying hard not to wake any of the patients. “The blood is coming from the tubes. And they’re all leading in the same direction.”

Bellamy follows the tubes with his eyes, taking careful steps away from their beds as he approaches the wall. Within seconds he has found the panel that would allow them entry into the other room, into the room the tubes lead to. When he is unable to just rip open the obviously locked door, she rolls her eyes. The posturing is a little ridiculous.

“The air vent,” he mutters, finding their best option to get inside. “The ventilation shaft.”

That isn’t a bad idea. She nods solemnly as he reveals the opening - it should be large enough to allow them entry, if they follow each other.

“I’ll go first,” Bellamy continues, obviously trying to protect her from whatever is on the other side.

“I’ll go first,” she disagrees. “You’re taller. You can help me get up there and then climb up yourself. I can handle myself, Bellamy.”

After a few seconds, ending with a frustrated huff from her co-leader, he seems to agree with her. Of course, it is not until he offers her a boost that she realizes that the stupid medical gown they put her in is going to reveal a whole lot more to him than she intended. The bastards didn’t even give her clean underwear. Freaks.

“No peeking,” she warns churlishly.

“Just climb already,” Bellamy rolls his eyes again.

She will just have to ‘accidentally’ kick him in the ribs if he decides to be an asshole. Decision made, she feels a lot better about letting Bellamy push her up to the level of the ventilation shaft. With his height, it is a lot easier for her to reach - guess it is a good thing that she has a partner right now.

“I’m up,” she needs him to follow. “Your turn.”

The metal of the shaft will just have to carry both her weight and his. She isn’t too sure about its capability to do so, so she crawls as fast as she can, hoping that the support below her will not suddenly give out on them. It is only a few more feet to the opening that she assumes holds the room the tubes lead to - and then she hears an ominous creaking noise.

“Hurry, Bellamy,” she calls out, the sound carrying through their metal enclosure.

“As you wish, Princess,” he insists on using that damn nickname.

She almost tumbles out on the other end in her haste, leaving the covering clattering to the floor. She is glad for the thin covers she wears on her feet when she climbs up and takes a look around the cold room. It is all in the same style as most of this bunker, with grates on the floor and low lighting - but then she sees the bodies.

Two people - two human beings - suspended upside down, with the same tubes pulling their life’s blood from their bodies. The people are barely decent, covered in torn cloth over their most private places. They appear to be unconscious - or already dead.

“They’re being kept in cages,” Bellamy is standing behind her, and at his urging she turns around to study the rest of the room. “I think they’re Grounders.”

Those people were - are - her enemies, and she is sure that her fuel idea has killed many a Grounder - but that was battle. This is science, and terrifying and cruel science at that. This is coldblooded murder, using these people for their healthy blood, draining them dry because the Mountain Men believe that their own lives are worth more than those of the Grounders who have walked the Earth.

Bile rises up in her throat, and she feels unsteady on her feet for a second as she watches Bellamy approach the cages. Arms are sticking out through the bars, Grounders reaching for her co-leader, her friend, as he makes his way through dozens of tiny prisons. These people would tear him apart in seconds if they ever got the chance. It is concern, mixed with a healthy fear, that drives her to follow Bellamy into the makeshift aisles.

“Anya?” she hears Bellamy speak, and her heart sinks.

Not someone she knows! Sure, Anya was captured with them, but when she hadn’t seen the other woman, she’d just assumed that… What had she assumed? That Anya had been released to her people? Was she really that naive?

“We have to help her,” she and Bellamy say as one.

Bellamy is all for a fair fight - he could never watch even an enemy be taken advantage of, not when Anya could be an ally in the fight against the Mountain Men. Not when he has the opportunity to do better.

He still hasn’t forgiven himself.

When he desperately pulls a metal bar from the wall with brute strength - not the time to focus on the muscles at play in his arm, Clarke! - the sparks make her recoil from Anya’s cage, almost pushing her into the arms of the other Grounders.

“We’re going to help you get out,” Clarke tells Anya solemnly.

Together, she and Bellamy figure out the right leverage to use so the pipe will break the simple lock on Anya’s cage. It makes a little too much noise, but they can be fast enough to escape before the doctor slash psychopath returns. They have to be.

“She’s coming back,” Clarke hears rather than sees the movement on the door.

She pulls Bellamy into Anya’s cage with her, wondering how on Earth this is ever going to work. The other prisoners still reach out of their cages, some of them groaning and some even going as far as to scream, all while the doctor walks in.

“Watch the hands, Princess,” Bellamy whispers in her ear.

When did he get so close? How did he manage to crowd his entire body around her in that tiny cage? By all rights, it should barely be able to fit her and Anya, and now there is three of them in an extremely cramped space. She tries to keep breathing normally as she feels the warmth of him all around her.

Their breathing syncs up as a panicked cry draws the doctor closer to the cages. Clarke wants to think of anything other than the threat of the doctor or the feelings that Bellamy creates in her, and her eyes look for a sight that will hold her attention.

That’s when she sees it. The lock. The damn thing never made it inside the cell!

Warning Bellamy would be too loud - using her voice too much of a risk. Instead she grabs his right hand in hers and squeezes it twice. She then stretches her index finger, pointing it in the direction of the lock and hoping that he catches on. She needs him to be prepared so that they can both make it out of this place (mostly) in one piece.

Her breathing is unsteady and shaky. The doctor’s footsteps come closer and closer to their cage - too close for comfort. Any second now she might discover the lock on the floor. Any second now their escape may be nipped in the bud. Will they even be allowed to live now, or will they end up strung up side by side?

Nearby, one of the prisoners bangs on the bars of his tiny cage. The sound sends her already rapid heartbeat into overdrive. And then the moaning and groaning begins anew, the other prisoners clamoring to be heard by the evil doctor. The footsteps stop ever so briefly, and Clarke rejoices internally.

A few more beats and the footsteps move away from them. She tries to breathe normally now, even with Bellamy pressed so closely to her back. They wait for the sound of the door closing, and when it finally comes, she almost flies out of the cage.

There is no time to think of his body, or of how she can still feel him pressed up against her back even after she escapes the cage. There is no time to do anything but escape.

Bellamy and Clarke work together in silence, helping Anya out of the cage and supporting her body by placing her between the two of them. They share her weight as they try to avoid the hands trying to pull at them from inside the other cages.

“Wait,” Bellamy stands still for just a second.

He pushes the cage door closed, making it less obvious to the Mountain Men that one of their prisoners has been set free. In the meantime, she is looking for the best exit for the three of them. She takes the lead in their movements, bringing them to the end of the containment area, into a room with warmer lighting.

The door swishes shut behind them and the alarms start blaring almost immediately after.

“It’s a trap,” Anya hisses at her, trying to lash out.

Bellamy steps in between the two of them, trying to prevent the inevitable fight. They will get caught in this room, and she led them right to it. But was there any other way for them to leave that room of horrors?

“It’s the only way,” Bellamy returns, right before the floor gives out from under them.

They fall down what is essentially an old world “slide” into another room, landing partially on top of each other on an uneven - something. Something is digging into her lower back, and then it feels like something is grabbing her arm. This feels wrong.

“Oh no,” she looks around.

A pile of bodies. Layers upon layers of dead Grounders. She’s lying in the middle of a mass grave of Anya’s people. Bile rises in her throat. Sure, she may be a medic, but something like this is just too sickening to even contemplate. Dozens upon dozens of bodies all used up so these people, these Mountain Men, could stay underground.

“My people,” Anya’s anger and pain is quickly rising to the surface again.

“I am so sorry,” she starts the apologies.

“We don’t have time for this,” Bellamy is an asshole sometimes, but he is definitely right about this. “I am sorry about your people, Anya, but unless you want to be another corpse on this pile, we need to move. Now!”

That was rude. Anya is furious now, trying to lash out at Bellamy with hands turned into claws, but the pile of her friends’ bodies makes it almost too hard for her to move. They have to move - not just because being trapped in a pile of bodies makes her sick, but because she is sure that the Mountain Men have plans in place to get rid of these bodies. And they cannot be caught in that particular crossfire. They have to make it out of the mountain - alive and preferably in one piece. Her sprained wrist still hurts.

Ugh, they have to get out. She swears that she can feel some of the dead hands moving on her skin. That cannot be true. Dead people can no longer move. And she has to move while she still can. 


End file.
